


white whale

by allp_wips



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 11:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19272448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allp_wips/pseuds/allp_wips
Summary: There's a new vigilante in National City, and Alex is determined to find out who it is.





	1. Chapter 1

The whole thing begins on what should have been a routine mission to clean out one of the dime-a-dozen offworld weapon caches that pop up regularly around National City. It’s strictly DEO jurisdiction, and they’re deployed to do it so often that Alex’s team has the procedure down pat: go in under the cover of night, quietly subdue any security, load the weapons into the DEO’s specially built containment vans, cordon the whole area off, and send the cleanup team in the next morning to mop up the evidence.

 

It’s a mission so routine that Alex can run it in her sleep. Which is maybe why she thinks she’s dreaming, when she breaks down the door to the warehouse where the weapons are supposed to be stashed, and orders her team in, only to be met with... absolutely nothing.

 

Not nothing as in, nothing out of place. Nothing as in, a surgically empty warehouse, with not even an empty pallet in sight, or a stray piece of dust on the floor... just wall-to-wall nothing.

 

Alex flips open her visor, confused, and turns to her second-in-command. “Was Supergirl already here?”

 

The agent shrugs back at her, looking just as confused, when there’s a woosh of sound, and Supergirl lands next to them. The two Danvers sisters stare each other down, equally surprised.

 

“I told you to wait until I got here!” they both say to each other, at the same time.

 

There’s a stymied silence, and then-

 

“Supergirl, Agent Danvers, if I can cut in,” Brainy interjects over the comms, “I’d say it’s pretty obvious that someone got here before both of you, and made off with the weapons.”

 

And, so blooms the thorn in Alex’s side.

 

\---

  
  


The next morning finds Alex in the DEO two full hours before she’s due for her shift, punching away determinedly at her terminal. Of course, this causes J’onn - ever the secret worry wart - to march by.

 

“Has something urgent come up, Agent?”

 

Alex frowns at the screen. “No, I’m just trying to get a headstart on tracking down whoever got a jump on us at the warehouse last night.”

 

“Alex,” J’onn begins, and his voice is long-suffering, “Maybe you were just given the wrong intel. Has it occured to you that there might have been nothing in the warehouse at all?”

 

“Then explain this,” Alex says, tight-lipped, and hands over a printout of an email to him. “We just got this from the NCPD headquarters. They had a carton of offworld weapons delivered anonymously to their downtown precinct this morning, all neutralized and neatly wrapped up in a containment pallet.”

 

J’onn frowns as he looks from the printout to her, but he doesn’t seem actually alarmed.

 

“Well, then. They’re in good hands. What’s the worry?”

 

“My worry is that I don’t know why someone would do this!” Alex says, “Look, I pulled up every security camera in the perimeter of the warehouse. Look at this backdoor one.”

 

As the video plays, it shows a static footage of the rear entrance, undisturbed in the night. After a few moments, this is abruptly shattered, as a featureless figure in all black enters the screen for mere moments, before jumping up at the camera. Then, nothing.

 

“The feed died,” Alex says. “Every other camera was disconnected too, and this is the only one where we even managed to get the culprit on screen. Someone planned this very carefully.”

 

J’onn is frowning at the screen, but he still doesn’t look particularly convinced.

 

“This could just be some intergang rivalry acting up, Alex.”

 

“Or, we could be dealing with something entirely new here,” Alex argues. “You should have seen the cleanup op, J’onn. It was surgically precise. We’re not dealing with some nobody off the streets here.”

 

“It’s not conclusive.” J’onn’s voice is stern, and final. “We’re already stretched to breaking point trying to round Cadmus up. We can’t go on a wild goose chase now.”

 

He clasps her shoulder briefly, as if to take the sting out of his words, and walks away. Alex glares at the screen, as if it had personally taunted her.

 

Because there’s no rival gangs, when it comes to the offworld weapons trade in National City. Roulette’s gang runs the whole racket, and she runs a tight ship.

 

Whoever this is, Alex knows, it’s not some rival gang member, or disillusioned insider. This is someone else, someone out of the blue, someone audacious enough to risk pissing off the most ruthless organization in the city. 

 

Alex sighs, and takes off her reading glasses. Her tiredness, kept at bay until then, suddenly comes crashing over her. She has a feeling that, whoever this is, it won’t be the first time that she’ll have to deal with them.

 

\---

 

Alex has a reputation around the DEO for being overzealously protective of Supergirl. Personally, she thinks it’s the other way around, if anything. Kara can downright be a mother hen sometimes, when she takes it into her head to fuss over Alex. More often than not, when Alex gets assigned to solo mission, her sister finds some way to get herself added to it. Ostensibly it’s to act as extra security for the whole team, but really, Alex knows, it’s to keep an eye on her.

 

It can be endearing, but it’s also annoying sometimes, at close quarters. 

 

Mostly, though, it’s just anxiety-inducing.

 

“You shouldn’t be here, Kara.” Alex mutters from the side of her mouth, to the superhero stubbornly seated beside her, in the DEO can heading out of the desert. “You know it’s not safe.”

 

Kara’s expression, if possible, only grows more stubborn.

 

“No way I’m staying out of this one,” she says, “If Maxwell Lord is mass-manufacturing kryptonite, the last thing I’m going to do is just run away and hide.”

 

Alex pursues her lips, turns back to the front, silently studying the other agents around her, and wondering if she’s bringing along a large enough team to face whatever Max might throw at them. Usually, he’s amenable to listening to reason, after exhausting every other alternative, but all bets are off this time. President Marsdin had personally overseen the expedition of kryptonite to in the controlled substances list just five months ago. Alex doesn’t expect Lord Technologies to be as cooperative now, when the possibility of criminal prosecution hangs in the balance.

 

Not that cooperation has ever been one of Max’s greatest strengths, Alex’s anxiety helpfully reminds her.

 

She’s still buzzing with nerves when the van crawls to a silent stop in the dead of night, a few paces away from the emergency exit of the Lord Technologies research headquarters. Alex’s hangs back as the rest of the team files out, reaching out snag Kara’s cape.

 

“Stay outside,” she says tensely. “I’m not having you anywhere near kryptonite. You know what that man is capable of.”

 

“No way!” her sister says, muscling away from the restraining hold, her mouth downturned in that familiar stubborn way. “I’m not letting you into that man’s lair alone.”

 

Alex grunts in frustration, knowing better than to argue when Kara is in that particular state of stubborness.

 

“Why did Winn take off just when need that kryptonite blocking suit, again?” she mutters, before motioning at two of her agents to kick the door in.

 

A continuation of the frustrated words die in her mouth, at the sight that awaits them. Besides her, she hears a slow exhale from Kara, as she too takes in the sight.

 

“What the fuck?” Alex finally hisses out.

 

There, in plain view so they can’t miss it, are three containers with biohazard symbols on them, which Alex can tell just by looking at Kara’s reaction, contain no kryptonite in them anymore.

 

And beside these, as if gift-wrapped for them, if Maxwell Lord tied to a chair, struggling to break free and glaring daggers at Alex as she gapes at him.

 

\---

 

“Alex, it’s not a big deal,” Kara says, for the thousandth time after they’re back at DEO headquarters, not that Alex is any more amenable to hearing it then.

 

“We need to track down the missing kryptonite,” she says, glaring at the computer screen, and willing the data to make sense. “We already had to let Max go. If we don’t find the kryptonite, we can’t even have him arrested.”

 

“Are you sure this even has anything to do with the vigilante?” Kara asks, “Maybe Max just hid it away himself.”

 

“And did he decide to tie himself up in his own storage room too, for us to find?” Alex asks. “Come on, Kara.”

 

She frowns at her sister, who doesn’t seem even nominally upset by the turn of events.

 

“There’s someone new out there, and they’re beating you to the punch everytime. How are you not more upset about it?”

 

“So? It’s only once or twice,” Kara says. “This city is big enough for more than one superhero, and this one doesn’t even seem to want the spotlight. You’re the one looking to drag them out into the open.”

 

She’s looking out the window as she says this, and something about the pose makes Alex squint for a moment.

 

“Do you think they could be Kryptonian?” she asks, in a sudden flash of insight. “That might explain why they keeps evading our sensors... those go highwire past  _ Mach 2 _ .”

 

It’s a long shot - none of them have actually seen the vigilante in action, aside from the blur Alex had caught on camera. Nor has the DEO’s citywide sensor grid picked up any use of heat vision, or other easily recognizable Kryptonian powers, other than from Supergirl. Flight and superspeed are still in the equation though, and Alex is getting more and more reluctant to rule them out.

 

Another Kryptonian, someone for Kara to befriend, someone to make up for the losses she’s gone through... Alex’s heart leaps at the very thought.

 

“No.” Kara sounds positive. “Definitely not Kryptonian. I’d know immediately, from the heartbeat and... other things.”

 

She shifts away from Alex’s direct line of vision, still studying the sky outside, and Alex goes back to frowning at her screen, nascent hopes dashed.

 

“There’s a pattern here,” she murmurs, to herself. “I just have to find it.”

 

“Oh my god,” Kara says, in a voice of sudden revelation. “This is not about me, or the DEO, is it?”

 

She finally turns back from the window, to survey Alex with suddenly keen eyes. All at once, Alex feels like a kid again, like when her mother had caught her sneaking out at night.

 

“This isn’t about another vigilante upstaging me!” Kara says. “You’re mad that they’re ahead of you.”

 

Alex splutters. “They’re taunting us! It’s making the DEO look bad.”

 

“J’onn doesn’t seem too upset,” Kara says, looking unmoved by this argument. “Neither am I, when it comes down to it.”

 

Alex huffs, and turns back to the screen, lacking a better argument.

 

“Maybe you’re looking too much into this.” Kara’s voice is cajoling.

 

“At least I am looking into it,” Alex mutters. “That’s more than I can say for anyone else.”

 

She’s still glaring at the screen, trying to find some clue out of the disparate pieces of intel she’s gathered, for hours after Kara leaves. The mystery remains as opaque as ever, though. Whoever this mysterious player in National City is, they cover their tracks well. Alex just can’t figure out a way to go after them.

 

An idea strikes her, then, and Alex sits back in her chair, teasing the details of it out.

 

If she can’t track down this vigilante, maybe it’s time to try another track. Maybe she can get them to come to her, instead.

 

And, Alex decides, sitting up straight and getting to work, if Kara and J’onn think she’s wasting her time on this, they don’t even have to know.

 

\---

 

Alex’s idea takes weeks of planning, followed by months of execution. Summer turns to fall, and on a rainy October night, Alex is waiting in a nondescript building that had used to be a beer cellar, carefully camouflaged amongst some old barrels lined against the wall.

 

Somewhere around 2am in the morning, her target creeps in, looking for a payload of alien drugs that’s not there. Instead they find Alex, rising from the barrels like a vengeful spirit, gun trained directly on the new arrival.

 

“Stop where you are.”

 

“Agent Danvers,” Brainy begins in Alex’s ear, “I must tell you that this capture mission only has a 15% chance of success. This vigilante is-”

 

Alex ignores him, and speaks to the phantom in front of her instead.

 

“So, you do exist.”

 

“You found me,” the figure sounds momentarily startled, before the tone turns thoughtful. “How?”

 

“Why did you steal Lord Technologies’ stash of kryptonite?” Alex asks in turns. “It  _ was _ you, wasn’t it? I can’t think of anyone else audacious enough.”

 

“Yes, it was.” The answer is seriously warped by the voice scrambler the figure wears, so this time Alex can’t make out the tone. “I can see how you figured that out. What I can’t figure out is how you knew I would be here tonight.”

 

Alex smiles.

 

“Because I’ve been planning this for months,” she says. “Remember that bust up you did in Parson’s and Queen’s last week? Or the one in Freddy’s bar on Passover? The downtown offworld weapons cartel you took down last month? I fed you that information over that radio frequency you’ve been tracking. You think we didn’t figure out that you were listening in?”

 

The figure laughs. Alex is a little surprised to detect no trace of anger in the sound. 

 

“That’s clever,” the figure says. “Building up trust, to eventually lure me here on a false mission. Simple, but it  _ has _ worked.” 

 

Alex stalls, her determination and frustration abating simultaneously. There’s something about that laughter that’s both strange and familiar at once. 

 

While she dithers, there’s a sound as the figure attempts to leap away from her, and ends up in a stumble, because of the metal bracelets that chain out of the warehouse to snap around the legs. That brings Alex firmly back to the matter at hand.

 

“How stupid do you think I am?” she asks. “Of course I planned for you trying to escape. There’s no way you’re breaking out of those.”

 

Her captive just laughs again. Not a “You think you can hold me?” laugh. Not even a “Ha ha, I am so amused and definitely not waiting for the moment I can get out of these cuffs and maul you to death” laugh. No, this laugh holds delight, not anger, and it makes Alex’s hair stand on end.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“It’s just... you must have been very patient, to have been sitting on this one for months,” the answer comes back. “What are these chains made of, incidentally?”

 

“Amazonium alloy,” Alex answers, unable to resist a little boasting, now that she’s finally managed to bag this irritating pain in her ass. “Strongest material on Earth.”

 

“Agent Danvers.” Brainy’s warning voice enters her comm again.

 

“Right,” Alex says, reining it in. “Dial Supergirl for pickup duty, Brainy.”

 

“Alex?” Kara’s panicked voice comes over the phone, after Brainy syncs her in. “Thank Rao you called, I was just about to get you. Lena is holding an emergency press conference, and you know what happens every time she holds one of those, I really don’t know why she keeps doing them and-”

 

“Supergirl, no time to talk,” Alex cuts into the rambling. “You need to be at my location right now.”

 

“What?” Kara sounds confused. “I don’t think I-”

 

“This is important,” Alex says. “I’ve caught the-”

 

She hesitates, looking back at the black-clad figure in front of her. There isn’t some grandiose superhero name uttered helpfully back to her, nor is the featureless black uniform giving her any clues. 

 

“The Mask,” Alex finishes, because that’s really the only thing that sticks out from the ensemble. “I need you to fly over and help me contain her.”

 

“The Mask?” Now the vigilante sounds scornful, as Alex mutes her comm again. “You can come up with something better than that.”

 

Oh, that hits a nerve, does it?

 

“The Mask it is,” Alex says, with satisfaction. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

 

A scoff. “As unoriginal as expected. As original as your trap, in fact.”

 

“You still fell for it.”

 

There’s a soft grunt, which Alex thinks that maybe she wasn’t supposed to hear and then the figure kneels down to investigate the chains.

 

“Stay where you are,” Alex says, bringing her weapon up.

 

“I’m hardly going anywhere,” The Mask says, reasonably. “I’m just interested in why you think Amazonium is so unbreakable. Promethium could give it a run for its money.”

 

“DEO doesn’t have access to promethium,” Alex almost snaps back, but manages to keep the words down in time. There’s no way she’s going to let herself be goaded by some two-bit newcomer. 

 

“It’s true that amazonium could hold just about anyone,” the vigilante continues, “And that you can’t break through such a substance by sheer strength, unless you happen to be certain shades of superhuman.”

 

There’s a slight pause at that, and Alex freezes. It can’t be. There’s only one breed of extraterrestrial documented that is strong enough to break through amazonium. Kryptonian.

 

“But, since that’s not the case here,” the vigilante says, making Alex breathe easier momentarily, before her apprehension spikes again, “I suppose something else will have to do. Something that doesn’t depend on brute force to break the chain.”

 

Before she finishes, before Alex can even take in and respond to what she’s saying, there’s a burst of light around her legs. It’s contained, but so bright that it momentarily blinds Alex. By the time she gets her vision back, her former captive is lazily dangling the chains off of one finger. 

 

“Something, perhaps, like a molecular disruptor, can do the trick.”

 

Alex blinks, common sense momentarily overridden by scientific curiosity, unwilling to accept the existence of the device that’s callously being waved in front of her. “Even the DEO doesn’t have a working prototype of that.”

 

“The DEO is not the be all and end all of organizations that seek to exploit offworld technology,” comes the bored reply. “Even in this city, LCorp has one in final trials as we speak, and Lord Technologies has a fully functional and tested model sealed away in its most secure vault.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Alex says, and then. “How do you know that?”

 

“Because I broke into said vault,” the vigilante says, waving the device in her free hand again, almost casually, as if the the thing can’t blow a hole through Alex with the slightest pressure. 

 

Her feet shift, and Alex raises her own gun by instinct. “Stay where I can see you.”

 

“Now, where would be the excitement in that?”

 

A click, and suddenly they’re in total darkness, Alex’s flashlight having suddenly been blown out by a blast of pressure. Then, a rush of air, and a voice, close by her ear, so close that Alex gets goosebumps.

 

“Until next time, Agent Danvers.”

 

Alex lashes out, but her hand hits thin air. Another rush of wind, and when she gets her backup light working again, Alex finds herself standing alone in the warehouse. 

 

As she stands there, the chill of the night leaking in through her uniform, her comm buzzes to life again.

 

“This mission now has a 0% chance of success,” Brainy informs her.

 

Alex sighs, and mutes him.

 

\---

 

Alex does expect to meet The Mask again, either through machinations of her own or through sheer happenstance. She doesn’t, however, expect the vigilante to come right to her.

 

Alex is in one of her more maudlin moods, and self-medicating with a glass of scotch on her balcony, when the languid words float over to her ears.

 

“For someone who threatened me so fiercely last night, you don’t seem very impressive, currently.”

 

Alex blinks, thinking for a moment that she’s had a drink too much, before setting the glass aside, and stepping back slowly.

 

Because, to her side, sitting lightly on the rails of her balcony, looking as self-assured as if she’s there for a pre-scheduled appointment, is The Mask herself.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you, human,” the vigilante drawls out, as Alex retreats.

 

Definitely alien, then. Alex’s hand twitches.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asks, half-insolent, riled up by the implication that she’s scared. 

 

“For this.” A piece of paper, fluttering in the slight breeze, is handed over to her, with some sparse numbers marked on it.

 

Alex studies the location coordinates scribbled on the piece of paper, and then back up at the woman. 

 

“This is in the middle of the northern woods,” she says. “What am I supposed to find there?”

 

“The kryptonite I took from Lord’s cache.”

 

“The kryptonite you stole,” Alex corrects, watching the woman’s unhurried movements like a hawk.

 

“Call it what you like,” comes the bored answer. “Does it really matter?”

 

She moves closer, and Alex reacts instinctively, a knife held out before her before the woman can take a step further. She’s pressed back against the wall before another moment has passed, the knife straining between them.

 

“You can’t win against me,” comes the tense reply. “I didn’t come here to fight you, so stop.”

 

The grip stopping the path of Alex’s knife is just strong enough to hold Alex back, but she gets the feeling that it could get much stronger, if she were to apply more pressure. There’s something both uncomfortably intimate and incredibly familiar about it, and Alex swallows. Her hand shakes but she’s unwilling to retreat, not when she’s treading on completely new ground.

 

“Why are you just giving us the kryptonite?” she asks.

 

“Because I’ve been advised that the DEO has means to neutralize it safely. You weren’t my first choice, but you come highly recommended.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex demands.

 

A disappointed sigh is exhaled.

 

“You humans. Always so distrustful.”

 

Something about the way  that’s worded has Alex’s hackles rising, has her fingers sliding the edge of the knife forward a little more. It - the sharpest make of knife the DEO has on hand - doesn’t make a single scratch on the suit.

 

“Tell me why you stole the kryptonite.”

 

“Would you have rather it stayed in the hands of Lord Technologies?” the vigilante counters. “Lord was planning to make kryptonite bombs with them.”

 

Alex’s hand shakes again. 

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“He was even peddling them to the military,” The Mask insists. “Neither your organization nor I want that.”

 

“I need proof,” Alex says, her throat dry. “Give me a source, something to validate your claim.”

 

“No proof, no source,” the vigilante says, stepping back, and releasing Alex with a shake. “Not everyone you work for is as honorable as you, and I’m not getting involved with them.”

 

Alex hesitates, because those words are said with certainty, rather than condemnation. As if the woman  _ understands _ .

 

“Why should I believe you?” she asks, trying to hide that moment of weakness. “You have every reason to lie to me.”

 

“You have one way to find out, don’t you?” the vigilante asks. “Go to the location I gave you, and find the kryptonite.”

 

\---

 

They do find the kryptonite, exactly where the vigilante had said it would be. The night after that mission, Alex allows herself one drink, to celebrate the occasion. She’s sitting in her balcony with the glass, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation, when a figure appears on the railings. Somehow, Alex isn’t surprised at all.

 

“You were telling the truth,” she says. “We found the kryptonite.”

 

“Yes,” her visitor replies. “I have it on good authority that Maxwell Lord is not happy at all.”

 

“Is he?” Alex allows herself a self-satisfied smile. “I bet he’s gonna be downright furious when the ATF cracks down on him.”

 

She surveys the silent figure as she takes another sip of the wine. The vigilante is studying her with a questioning tilt of her head, as if something about Alex’s words had gone over her head.

 

“Who are you?” Alex asks.

 

“Does it matter?”

 

“So you’re on our side, but you won’t divulge your identity? And yet, I’m still supposed to trust you?”

 

“I’m not on your side,” The Mask answers, quick as a shot. “We simply shared a common goal, this time.”

 

Alex feels stung. Why should she care whether this irritating stranger is on the same side as her? It shouldn’t matter at all.

 

Still, the disappointment lingers, clouding her senses so much that she almost misses the quiet words floating through the night air.

 

“There are only two uses in the world for kryptonite bombs, agent.”

 

Alex stares at the vigilante, swallowing heavily as her last sip of wine almost goes down the wrong way.

 

“They happen to be Superman, and Supergirl,” The Mask continues. “I don’t want either of those eventualities coming about, and I don’t think you do, either.”

 

“That bothers you,” Alex asks. “I know why it bothers me, but why you?”

 

“Why does it bother you?” the vigilante asks.

 

She makes a satisfied noise, when Alex keeps silent instead of replying.

 

“You see? You keep your secrets, I keep mine.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

“I believe I am still trying to find that out.”

 

On that enigmatic note, The Mask is gone, swinging away into thin air, just as easily as Kara flies.

 

“Hey, that’s not an answer!” Alex calls out, into the empty night, waving her empty glass for emphasis. “That’s not a fucking answer, and you know it!”

 

\---

  
  


The thing with being a DEO agent is, everything can go to hell in a handbasket in the blink of an eye. With one urgent summons from J’onn, a day planned to be spent at home turns into a day spent rapidly clearing out a host of Cadmus storage locations that the DEO had suddenly tracked down on their radar. 

 

And, when those storage locations turn out of have unexpectedly strong - and armed - security? That’s when things  _ really _ go to hell.

 

Alex curses, and ducks behind some wooden crates, as gunshots ring out, echoing through the empty warehouse that she’s holed in.

 

Well, empty save for herself and the three Cadmus operatives who’d caught Alex in the act of exiting it, and who’re proving harder to shake off than she’d anticipated.

 

“Is Supergirl nearby?” Alex asks into her comm. “Brainy, redirect her here. We’ve got a situation.”

 

“She’s delayed,” Brainy’s voice sounds over the intercom, a hint of reproach creeping into his usually un-inflected tones. “She instructs you to stay behind cover and out of reach, until she makes it past the operatives who have cornered her. I must interject here, that you greatly disrupted the odds of pulling off this mission successfully when you waded in without waiting for backup, and-”

 

“I get it, Agent Dox,” Alex interrupts, using the title pointedly to remind him who’s after all, running point here. 

 

She creeps as softly as she can behind the wooden crates, and risks another peep out.

 

“I can’t hide for much longer. These guys look ready to blow the whole place up.”

 

“Alex... hold on.” Kara’s voice comes in through the comm, sounding strained and out of breath. “Just... oof... lay low... until I g-”

 

Alex doesn’t wait for the rest of the message, running for cover as another blast erupts behind her. 

 

“Fuck, fuck  _ fuck!” _ She coughs as debris flies over her face and into her mouth, and that causes another round of fire to erupt, until she ducks into cover again.

 

“It’s no good,” she hisses into the comm. “I’m gonna have to make a run for it.”

 

“It’s too risky, Alex.” J’onn’s voice enters her ears, now. “You won’t be able to outrun them all.”

 

“Alex ... please,” Kara’s voice cuts in and out, as if something is interfering with the reception. “Help... coming...”

 

Alex shakes her head, risking another look around the crates. Just she’s crouching, ready to head out on a springing run, there’s another blast of gunfire. Alex scurries back, preparing to take at least one hit, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she’s bodily tackled backwards, before the wall is cracking open, and they’re flying out, seconds before the warehouse blows up.

 

“Took you long enough.” Alex gripes at her sister, in between hacking out dust and smoke. “Why were you-”

 

Words die a she takes in her rescuer.

 

“We have to stop meeting like this, Agent Danvers,” The Mask says, as Alex gapes.

 

“You!” Alex snaps. “Are you part of this?”

 

“Of course not, or it would never have gotten so out of hand. I happened to be nearby, and heard the commotion. One could hardly could miss it.”

 

Alex considers her other options at the moment, which consist solely of letting go and plunging through the air into the unforgiving concrete below. With that in mind, she pats her chest pocket again, to make sure that the Cadmus files she’d gone into the warehouse to retrieve are still there. She readjusts her grip around the woman while she considers whether she’s telling the truth or not. 

 

For some reason, she thinks it might not be an entire lie.

 

“The fire’ll spread.” she murmurs, looking back in the direction of the warehouse. “There’s residential areas nearby.”

 

“I’d wager your Kryptonian colleague is putting it out right now.” the unruffled answer comes back.

 

Alex blinks, and holds on tighter, as the wind rushes past them. They’re flying faster that Kara usually takes her, and Alex can feel her bones rattling at the speed of it, though she grits her teeth and keeps silent about it. 

 

“This isn’t the way to the DEO.” she says after a while. “We’re going west.”

 

“I’m taking you to your home, agent.” the vigilante answers.

 

Alex twists in the hold, blushing only a little when that puts her in much more intimate contact with the woman. 

 

“Take me to the DEO!” she yells into her ear.

 

Briefly, there’s a steep and shaky drop, before they’re flying steady again, still in the same direction.

 

“Well, would you look at that.” comes the unmoved answer. “I seem to have forgotten the directions there.”

 

“Hey!” Alex says, banging on the uniform, not that it seems to make much of a difference.

 

“If I take you there, there’s a good likelihood that I’ll be detained for questioning.” The Mask replies. “I don’t care for that. Besides, this was supposed to be your day off, was it not?”

 

“I still have to report in!”

 

“You have a phone.” Alex is dropped unceremoniously on her balcony. “I would hope your director knows how to answer his.”

 

The Mask settles elegantly on the railing, as Alex scrambles to her feet.

 

“You’re an asshole.” Alex grumbles, brushing herself off.

 

“I also happen to be the person who saved your life.” 

 

Whatever retort Alex had in mind dies as she looks up to take in the vigilante still sitting on the railing. Her legs are gently swaying against the balusters, and for a moment, Alex stares, distracted by the rhythm of them.

 

“Why are you waiting for?” the vigilante asks, and Alex realizes she’s been staring too long. “Would you like me to come and tuck you into bed?”

 

Alex wrenches the door open and stalks inside, throw her middle finger up behind her as she does so, and gets an unbothered wiggle of fingers back in a wave.

 

\---


	2. Chapter 2

Alex runs over thick undergrowth and leaps over fallen branches as she chases the escaped DEO prisoner through the woods that border the northern edge of National City. In her ears, she can hear a cacophony of voices through the comm, of the other agents joining her on the mission. Alex is the only one within viewing distance of the prisoner, though, and she’s quickly gaining on the fleeing man, almost within reach to strike.

 

She leaps over a small bush, and closes in, drawing just close enough that she’d get him with a tranq. Just as she draws back to shoot, the prisoner looks back and it’s not him anymore. Instead, it’s a Helgrammite’s face looking back at her, the one she’d killed with his own quill.

 

- _ anvers? _

 

Alex stumbles, and she’s falling, falling to the cold concrete ground of a familiar roof, as a woman lies prostrate on the ground below her, drawing laboured breaths.

 

_ Agent Danvers. _

 

“Astra.” Alex murmurs, and she’s thrashing around, trying to move, trying to get to the woman, to stanch the bleeding, but it’s like something invisible is pinning her arms to the ground.

 

“Agent Danvers, wake up!”

 

Alex bolts straight up, still thrashing as a figure stumbles back from her. She realizes that she’s in bed, and that what she’d thought had been pinning her to the ground, had actually been arms shaking her awake. She draws for the gun by her bedside table almost automatically, unlatching the safety and pointing it at the intruder before her brain every fully wakes up.

 

“It’s only me,” The Mask says, her voice still calm, though Alex is pointing the damn gun right at her heart.

 

“Fuck.” Alex breathes in and out, trying to regulate her heartbeat. “Why would you think it’s okay to break in like this?”

 

“I was waiting outside on your balcony for hours,” comes the defensive answer. “When you didn’t reply despite my repeated knocking, I  _ was _ going to leave, until I heard you thrashing about.”

 

Alex blinks blearily. She had staggered home from the Prisoner Recapture Mission From Hell - as Vasquez had nicknamed it - around midnight, stumbling from the shower to her bedroom in a near-dead daze.

 

“I didn’t hear you.” she admits, rubbing her eyes, and putting the gun back down. “That’s still no reason to be barging in like some serial killer.”

 

There’s a pause that Alex thinks might be almost confused.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asks, too tired to wonder what the reason for the confusion might be.

 

“You’ve been searching for Cadmus hideouts, have you not?” The Mask asks. “I’ve managed to get hold of their transport routes. That should help you narrow down their mostly commonly used gathering locations.”

 

Alex looks at the flash drive that the vigilante is holding out to her, resisting the urge to rub her eyes again.

 

“Just like that?” she asks. “No price, no bargaining? What happened to us not being on the same side?”

 

“Of course you’d look a gift horse in the eye,” the vigilante sighs, sounding almost offended. “Taking down Cadmus would be beneficial to everyone.”

 

Alex sighs, wondering if this is another game, but not in the mood to try and figure if it is.

 

“I’ll take it in tomorrow,” she says, tucking it away into the cabinet.

 

Her hand settles around the gun again, after that, and too late, she sees the figure tense.

 

“Don’t worry,” Alex says, putting the gun down again hastily. “I wasn’t trying too... fuck, I didn’t know how that would look.”

 

“It’s alright,” The Mask says. “I was only momentarily startled. Your feeble weapon can’t pierce my suit.”

 

“Yeah yeah,” Alex mutters, reaching for the gun again. “I swear, you’ll trash talk yourself into your own grave.”

 

Blearily, she sinks to the ground by the best, and sets to work, sliding the clip out, and stripping out each round one by one, before inspecting each one closely.

 

“You were sleeping,” the vigilante observes, as Alex continues.

 

“I don’t think that’s happening anymore, tonight,” Alex says, stubbornly blinking away the memories of the nightmare. 

 

She expects The Mask to leave then, but the woman takes a seat beside her, leaning against the bed just like Alex. She watches avidly as Alex discards the badly damaged rounds, and replaces the clip with new ones, before setting about painstakingly taking apart and cleaning the barrel. 

 

“Why are you doing that?” she asks, after some time.

 

“Sometimes it sticks, if something gets caught.” Alex replies, distractedly. “It’s a new design, and Winn is still working out the kinks.”

 

“Projectile weapons are too unreliable.” The Mask replies. “I haven’t used one in... decades, I think.”

 

Alex remembers from the dossier she had compiled, that the vigilante usually favours controlled fusion weapons.

 

“J’onn doesn’t like blasters in the field,” she murmurs, taking a worn rag to the metal.

 

There’s a decidedly unimpressed snort from The Mask.

 

“Your hands are shaking.” she observes. 

 

“I’m just tired.” Alex says. “It’ll pass.”

 

“Only tiredness?” the quiet question comes back.

 

Alex stares at the dismantled gun in her hand so fiercely that she imagines it would erupt in flames, if she had Kara’s heat vision.

 

“I should’ve been faster,” she says, to the gun. “Donovan wouldn’t have been hurt, if I’d just been quicker on the draw.”

 

“Don’t we all like to tell ourselves that, after harrowing missions?” the vigilante asks. “You can’t think like that. I promise you that you single-handedly couldn’t have changed the course of events.”

 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Alex asks, snorting. “Because, not working.”

 

The prisoner had been so close, too close. At that distance, the tranquilizer dart would have killed him, rather than incapacitating, and Alex had hesitated. Had dithered just long enough for the situation to get out of hand.

 

Fuck, why had she hesitated to take the shot?

 

“Would you rather have put him down mercilessly, like an animal?” The Mask asks.

 

Alex realizes, too late, that she had been speaking out loud.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

 

“Perhaps not,” the vigilante allows. “But, I think I know a little of you, and I know that you wouldn’t have.”

 

Alex shakes her head miserably and falls silent, focusing on her work again. It takes the better part of an hour, but her hands stall as she works, the movements growing slower as exhaustion takes its toll. She doesn’t know when she falls asleep, only vaguely remembers her face sinking into the side of the bed, of arms lifting her up, and the faint shuck of blankets over her.

 

No one’s in the apartment, though, when she wakes up the next morning.

 

\---

The information provided on the flashdrive does indeed turn out to be valuable, helping Alex’s task force take down two more hideouts of Cadmus, these two being experimentation centers. It’s a nice feather in her cap, and all the weapons and research files recovered makes for a nice present to send back to Washington, to justify their increased budget under the new president. 

 

Alex, flying high, decides to meet The Mask again, to inform her of the success. Acutely aware that something has changed between them, after the last meeting, she arranges this meeting in public and in broad daylight, where she won’t be compelled to do something reckless and impulsive, bolstered by the absolutely delusional feelings that have been sprouting up inside her over the past couple of weeks.

 

They meet on the rooftop of a building sequestered in a busy intersection downtown. Public enough for Alex’s comfort, but hidden away enough that they won’t be monitored.

 

It’s when she finished giving her report on how the takedown had gone, and apprised the woman of the results, that the real story of the day happens. Just as Alex prepares to leave, she finds herself being regarded with a quizzical tilt of the head.

 

“That’s all?” the woman sounds almost disappointed. “This is what you called me here for, to discuss your mission?”

 

Alex frowns. “What else?”

 

Her mind works rapidly, going through the possibilities. Had she missed something, some other briefing they had agreed to? Even in front of a presumed ally, being caught unprepared isn’t a prospect she’s willing to face.

 

“Never mind.” the vigilante’s voice is businesslike again, although still somehow muted. “Until next time, Agent Danvers. Or... soon to be Director of the desert base, I hear, after the president’s commendation on your last mission.”

 

And then, suddenly, Alex gets it. Or at least, guesses enough of it to practically shout one word, before the other lifts off into the air.

 

“Wait!”

 

That arrests the vigilante in her tracks, although she stills seems restless, shifting from one foot to another, as she studies Alex, who finds herself suddenly stymied.

 

The things is, there are waters that she’s not very familiar with. For most of her life, she’s sequestered herself away behind one type of work or another. It’d had taken her almost thirty years just to realize that she’d been running away from... well, everything else. From everything that makes life what it is. And, even after that realization, it’s still been a hell of a journey trying to break out of those old habits, to allow herself to want things  _ she _ wants, rather than living for Kara or anyone else.

 

Now, with the vigilante watching her, seemingly torn between staying and leaving, Alex comes to a quick decision, vaulting over the roof and scaling down the back wall with a little help from her grappler.

 

“Something tells me you don’t have anywhere to be getting to fast,” she calls up, to the figure who’s still watching her from the rooftop, seemingly bemused.

 

Without waiting for a reply, she walks away in the direction of the coffee shop on the opposite side of the intersection. Her companion falls into line beside her moments later, but not without voicing opposition.

 

“Do you think this is wise? I’ll stick out like a ...what you do you call it... a sore finger.”

 

“You mean thumb.” Without breaking stride, Alex takes off her jacket and hands it over to the woman. “Here, put this on and zip it all the way up.”

 

With the coat covering the torso, the mostly black suit turns nondescript, and the vigilante would be indistinguishable from anyone else in the crowd, except for the mask covering her eyes.

 

“Now, come on.” Alex takes her hand, assuming a more confident voice than she actually feels, and leads her into the coffee house.

 

“Do you really think this will work?”

 

“It’ll be fine.”

 

Alex steps up to the counter during a rare lull, where the harried barista barely even glances at the odd attire of Alex’s companion, before requesting their order.

 

“What do you like?” Alex asks, turning to the other woman.

 

A shrug, but a mystified rather than uncaring one.

 

“Nevermind,” Alex says. “I’ll get us something, and you can see if it’s to your taste.”

 

She’s about to order two of the same plain black coffee that she herself likes, when inspiration strikes her and she points instead at one of those complicated drinks that Kara favours.

 

“Batwoman!” the barista calls out their order a few minutes later. “I’ve got a tall coffee and a grande zebra mocha for Batwoman!”

 

Alex has to try very hard not to snicker at the puzzled tilt of the vigilante’s head, when she returns with their drinks.

 

“Here.”

 

Obediently, the other woman takes the proffered cup, but her mouth is still set in a anxious frown, when they claim a table sequestered against a far window.

 

“Someone is going to notice me.”

 

“We’re in downtown NC,” Alex says. “No one notices anything, here. If they do, I’m sure they’ll just think you’re cosplaying for some convention or something.”

 

That gets her another puzzled tilt of the head, but Alex just draws her own drink towards herself, before pushing the over-sweetened one towards The Mask.

 

“Yours is different,” the vigilante observes.

 

“I don’t take cream,” Alex says. “Try it.”

 

“Why?”

 

The question is overarching, encompassing so much more than the coffee. Alex shrugs.

 

“I don’t know,” she says. “Isn’t it nice to take a break from... everything, sometimes? Now, come on, try it.”

 

And the vigilante does so, hesitatingly. Alex watches, transfixed, at the first tentative lick of tongue over the foamy surface of the drink, before it’s tipped back for a full slip. Her face warms, and she immediately buries herself in her own drink to hide it.

 

“-right.”

 

“What?” Alex asks, before coughing, as her big gulp of coffee goes down the wrong way.

 

“I said, it tastes alright,” the woman repeats.

 

Alex fancies that she’s being studied closely, from behind the mask, and tries to act nonchalant, taking another sip - a smaller one, this time - to busy herself.

 

When she looks back at The Mask, though, there’s a lopsided smile curving up her face, like she knows exactly what had distracted Alex.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

Alex thinks that, whatever the hell this is, she just might be in over her head this time.

 

\---

 

The thing is, somewhere between her obsession with capturing The Mask, and actually getting to know her, Alex falls into some sort of rhythm. She makes half-hearted efforts to catch the vigilante, which somehow seems to always end up in her target following her in return, offering oft-valuable info on whatever her latest mission is. Even J’onn seems to be turning a blind eye to Alex occasionally using intel from such a shady source. For her part, Alex doesn’t exactly publicize the help, realizing instinctively that it’s something to be kept under wraps. Far from being an outlaw hunted by the DEO, The Mask instead seems to have become an unofficial ally, helping the organization take down far more serious threats.

 

Which is why Alex is as blindsided as anyone can be, when she suddenly drops off the radar of the DEO entirely, for two weeks running.

 

“Alex?”

 

“Mm-hmm?” Alex murmurs absentmindedly, as she pores over the map of National City displayed on her work terminal, which shows all the known threats under constant surveillance from the DEO satellites.

 

“Alex!” Kara’s voice cracks through the air again, finally drawing Alex’s attention away from the map, and towards her sister.

 

“Sorry,” she mutters, steadying the cup of coffee she had almost knocked over in her startlement. “What?”

 

“You’re glued to that screen almost every moment these days, when you’re not in your lab or out on a field mission,” Kara complains, in between bites of a posticker from the oily bag in her hand. “J’onn says he had to stop you last week from coming in on your night off to check on it. What’s going on?”

 

“None of your business,” Alex grumbles. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, like just happening to casually fly past your CEO  _ girlfriend’s _ penthouse apartment for the tenth time today?”

 

Normally, that dig would immediately result in a red faced Kara and spluttered denials that she is totally not said CEO’s girlfriend, they are totally not dating, why would Alex think that, did she say anything to Alex, or-

 

No such luck. Kara just shoots her an unimpressed look over another bite of potsticker, and Alex resists the urge to slump over onto her desk. 

 

“I’m sorry. I just want to make sure nothing is slipping by us.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Kara says. “Things have been quiet for  _ months _ , so there’s absolutely no reason for you to be this keyed up. What’s  _ really _ going on?”

 

Alex rubs her eyes tiredly.

 

“It’s The Mask,” she admits. “It’s like she’s just... disappeared, these past two weeks, and she’s not answering the phone number she gave me. I just want to know what she’s up to.”

 

She glares at the screen again, but it remains the same as always: exceedingly unhelpful.

 

Kara hums, and Alex looks up, to see her sister studying her with thoughtful and wary eyes.

 

“This is going to sound weird,” Kara says. “But do you... miss her or something?”

 

“No!” Alex says, quickly. Too quickly.

 

She turns back to the screen, hoping the blue glare of it would wash out her warming cheeks. Not that there’s any truth to Kara’s ridiculous claim. Just because she’d enjoyed the little game of cat and mouse with The Mask, just because the woman seems so  _ delighted _ everytime Alex finds her, means nothing at all. It’s just a matter of pride. Alex wants to be the one to bring her in, and she can’t do that if her target disappears completely. That’s it.

 

She doesn’t miss her. She doesn’t worry that something might have happened to her, at some other enemy’s hands.

 

“You know, General Lane is in town, visiting Lucy, for the past couple weeks or so,” Kara says, cutting into Alex’s inner turmoil. Her voice is extremely casual. “She told me he might drop by the DEO, to check in on our activities.”

 

Alex growls. 

 

“Fuck that windbag,” she says. “But, Vasquez already told me that. What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“Nothing,” Kara says quickly, going back to stuffing potstickers in her mouth. “Yus fought you’b like to bow.”

 

“I already do,” Alex grouses, throwing a paper tissue at her. “Go spray your food somewhere else, weirdo. This workstation cost us 10 grand a terminal.”

 

Kara slouches off, grumbling about inferior Earth technology, and it almost clicks in Alex’s mind right then, the persistent idea that Kara had just said something relevant, that Alex is  _ missing something.  _

 

Then it’s gone, evaporated the way a dream does upon waking up, and Alex is back to glaring at her screen again, looking for answers when she doesn’t even know what question she’s asking.

 

\---

 

That night, the Mask appears on Alex’s balcony again.

 

She lands on the balcony just as Alex is heading back into the apartment after a drink, which means that Alex ends up attacking her from sheer shock. She cracks the wine glass against the wall and holds it to the woman’s gut, while the other hand pushes her backwards halfway over the railing, before she realizes who it is.

 

“I bet you do that to all the masked vigilantes,” comes the bored drawl, as Alex yelps and stumbles backwards.

 

“Don’t fucking do that!” Alex says. “At least wear a bell or something.”

 

“Now, where would be the entertainment in that?” The Mask asks, brushing at her uniform cursorily, before her attention focuses back on Alex.

 

Alex watches as the masked face tracks down her body, before focusing on the broken wine glass in her hand. There’s an almost disapproving tilt to her head, as the vigilante studies it.

 

“It’s just one glass.” Alex says defensively, fighting the urge to edge it out of sight behind her body.

 

She’s being a lot more careful about that, these days, between her impending promotion to director, and the DEO-mandated therapy sessions that J’onn makes sure she attends. With Kara’s support, and the Martian watching over like a mother hen, it’s been easier than she had thought. Definitely easier than when she had been trying to curb the habit on her own.

 

“What are you doing here?” Alex asks, to skate over her own awkwardness, when the woman continues to be silent. “We’ve been getting nothing but radio silence from you for weeks.”

 

“Did you miss me, then?” the vigilante asks.

 

“Trust me, I won’t, when I’m aiming right,” Alex shoots back, but she can’t deny that something warm is unfurling through her chest, at the sound of that familiar confident voice. “Come to give me more hot tips?”

 

“Perhaps I simply came to check in on you,” comes the enigmatic answer. “If your organization insists on hounding me, I should keep myself apprised on what its operatives are up to.”

 

It’s the studied casualness of her voice, when she gives that answer, that tips Alex off.

 

“You’re not here for anything in particular, are you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. “Then, why-”

 

She stops, realizing something, although it seems almost impossible. Is she just here because she wanted to see Alex? Is that why her stance looks almost embarrassed now, like a kid caught doing something they weren’t allowed to do?

 

No way. She’s letting Kara’s words get to her. This woman is her rival. She’s only here because she sees Alex as a source of information, just like Alex sees her. Of course she’d want to keep up that connection. That’s all.

 

And she won’t play along, Alex decides. She won’t give in this time, she will not-

 

“Where were you?” she blurts, biting her tongue as soon as she asks the question, because it’s incredibly  _ transparent,  _ she sounds so needy _.  _

 

There’s no taunting reply. Instead, The Mask looks down.

 

“I had to... how do you ... oh yes, I had to lie low for some time.” she replies.

 

“Why?” Alex asks, worry rising, and something protective - this is  _ her _ outlaw to capture - rising with it. “What happened? What have you got to worry about?”

 

The vigilante shrugs.

 

“Nothing too urgent,” she says. “I simply need to be more cautious, for a short while.”

 

Alex watches her, but nothing more is forthcoming. The figure shifts where she stands, watching Alex back. Alex realizes she’s in a state of some disarray, as if she’d hurriedly put her uniform on before flying over to see her, because it’s bunching up around her arms, and there are strands of hair escaping from the cowl. 

 

Alex reaches out without thinking, and runs the flyaway strands over her fingers. At first, she thinks they’re blond, like Kara’s but lighter. Then she realizes they’re actually silver, coloured a pale yellow by the lights of her apartment. She tugs at them gently, experimentally, wondering if they’re part of the vigilante’s disguise, or not.

 

“Agent Danvers.”

 

There’s a shift in The Mask’s voice. Alex swallows, hand flying back as if shot. Something about that breathy shift in voice, the idea that  _ she _ had caused it, makes her brave, makes her rethink her earlier scoffing of Kara’s words.

 

“I missed you.” she says, before she can think better of the words. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

There’s an extended silence after her admission. Alex bears it for maybe two seconds, before her brain goes into mortification overdrive.  _ Stupid stupid STUPID.  _ This is such a bad idea, and she’s  _ never _ listening to Kara again.

 

“I just made this weird, didn’t I?” she asks the ground.

 

Gloved hands are touching her jaw gently, tilting her face back up, and tucking fallen hair away behind her ears.

 

“No.” The Mask’s answer is soft, almost rueful. “I think  _ I  _ have.”

 

Alex snatches the hand that’s retreating from her face.

 

“What that supposed to mean?”

 

The vigilante shakes her head, and tries to step back.

 

“I shouldn’t have come here,” she says, eventually. “I should have- I was told-”

 

She seems to sigh, and then speaks again, almost mournful. “I should go.”

 

Alex looks down again, lips drawn tight so she won’t give away her reaction with a frown or a sigh.

 

“So go.” 

 

Not like the first time  _ that’s _ ever happened.

 

It’s not until there’s a flutter of wind, and The Mask is gone, that Alex realizes how much she’d wanted it to be different, this time.

\---


	3. Chapter 3

“I think we seriously need to consider the fact that The Mask is Kryptonian,” Alex says abruptly to Kara, during dinner a few weeks later.

 

Kara cringes, as she always does when Alex refers to the vigilante by that name, but she downright freezes by the time Alex is finished.

 

“She’s not,” she says, her voice oddly strained. “I told you, I’d know.”

 

“What if there’s a way of hiding it?” Alex presses. “Kryptonian technology can do some pretty advanced stuff right? Maybe she can modulate her heartbeat so you can’t recognize it.”

 

Kara goes back to stirring her pasta, frowning down into the plate.

 

“So what?” she asks, “Maybe she has reasons for hiding whatever she is. Is it really our business to poke into it?”

 

Alex sets aside the tissue she had grabbed, before her fingers worry it apart to shreds.

 

“I thought you’d like the idea,” she says, staring down into her own plate. “I thought... you know, that maybe you can be friends with her, if she was.”

 

When she looks up again, her sister is still frowning.

 

“Is this really about me, Alex?”

 

Alex stares back down at the table, unsure how to answer that.

 

The truth is, she’d never expected to get so caught up in all this. Never expected the nausea-inducing loss that seems to assault her at random times, ever since The Mask had left her alone on her balcony. It’s worsened by the fact that the vigilante hasn’t dropped completely off the radar, like before. She makes enough noise here and there around National City, for Alex to know that she’s as active as ever. They’ve just never crossed paths again, after that night. It’s somehow worse, knowing that the other woman is going out of her way to make sure that she doesn’t bump into Alex.

 

“Alex?” Kara prompts.

 

“Of course it’s about you,” Alex says, trying to keep her voice neutral. “You should have more people like you around.”

 

The guilt she tries strenuously to avoid rises again, about just what she had done to the other person who was like Kara. Alex pushes it firmly down - she’s never going to think about that again - and swallows.

 

“Then, is it just about me?” Kara amends.

 

Alex looks up, and Kara’s eyes look stormy and conflicted, as her hand covers Alex’s own.

 

“You know, I never really got to know the women you dated,” Kara says. “We didn’t get get along as well as you wanted us to, and I know you were upset at me about that. I guess, looking back, I _should_ have tried harder, to support you in that happiness.”

 

Alex looks down, swallowing again. She feels the need for a drink almost like a phantom pain in her hand.

 

“But, you know I still want happiness for you, right?” Kara finishes. “That matters to me above anything else, and I know I’ve said before but... well, I guess it’s about time I learned to walk the talk, and make some place in my own feelings for that.”

 

“It’s not like that,” Alex says, her voice raspy.

 

For god’s sake, she has never even properly _seen_ the woman.

 

“Ok,” Kara says, and she sounds thoughtful, rather than teasing.

 

\---

 

“Agent Danvers, this is not a good idea,” Brainy says in her ear, as Alex creeps around the back of the building she’s currently broken into.

 

“I let you listen in on this mission so you can man the sensors,” Alex says. “ _Not_ so you can preach at me in place of J’onn.”

 

A voice in her head, sounding suspiciously like J’onn’s, tells her that it’s reckless, to be undertaking a solo mission into a building just because Cadmus operatives had been spotted leaving it at odd times.

 

Maybe the voice is right, maybe it’s reckless, but she wants to do _something_. Something that doesn’t make her feel like everything in her life is out of her control, that she can’t hold onto anything anymore.

 

“It is my estimation that the probability of this mission succeeding would be exponentially higher, if Supergirl were involved,” Brainy continues now, undaunted. “You really should not be doing this on your own.”

 

“If Kara had her way, we’d being doing two more days of surveillance before we even go in, and you know Cadmus would have packed up shop and moved by then,” Alex says.

 

She’s going to catch so much flack from J’onn for this. On the other hand, he wouldn’t be grooming her to be his successor if he didn’t expect her to direct and run missions of her own volition.

 

“Just alert me if something weird pops up on the sensors, Brainy. I’ll cover for you if J’onn finds out.”

 

“Somehow, I doubt that would help me avoid his displeasure,” Brainy says.

 

Alex strategically ignores that, and continues her silent exploration of the building.

 

“There isn’t much by the way of security,” she murmurs creeping past yet another intersection of hallways that would have been a perfect vantage point. “This can’t be one of their warehouses.”

 

It takes her a quarter of an hour of exploring before she encounters a locked door that seems promising. There’s nothing about it that’s out of place from the other doors she’s tried so far, except for the faint light shining through the crack at the bottom. Alex eases a slice of bent metal wire out of her pocket, then pauses.

 

“What do the sensors say, Brainy?”

 

“There are signs of only one lifeform inside the room,” Brainy reports. “There appears to be no movement, however. Perhaps it’s confined.”

 

“A hostage,” Alex murmurs. “I knew this place seemed familiar. It’s exactly like the building where Lillian Luthor kidnapped me.”

 

“It’s not advisable to go in,” Brainy says in her ear.

 

Alex ignores him, and crouches down, inserting the metal wire into the keyhole. A few minutes of fiddling later, she steps back, and tries the doorknob. She tiptoes in sideways, gun and flashlight leading the way.

 

And stops dead, at the sight that awaits her. There’s no mistaking the figure tied to the pillar, not at this distance and angle.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says.

 

“What is it?” Brainy asks in her comm. “Should I alert the Director? Should I send in a-”

 

“Stand by, Agent Dox,” Alex murmurs, and mutes the comm, before stalking over to the pillar.

 

There’s a weariness to the way the bound figure tilts up her head and regards Alex. If that isn’t enough to tip Alex off, the fact that there’s no snappy rejoinder certainly is.

 

“Agent Danvers, you shouldn’t be here.”

 

“Shut up,” Alex grunts, dropping heavily down beside the bound figure, and inspecting the ropes binding her to the post.

 

“This is dangerous, human.”

 

“Which one of us is caught in a trap?” Alex asks, and scoffs into the silence that follows her question. “That’s right.”

 

She pats her pockets, growing increasingly more frustrated when she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. This was supposed to have been a simple recon mission. She hadn’t taken more than her usual gun and ammo, because signing anything more heavy-duty would definitely have tipped J’onn and Kara off. The only other thing that comes up from her survey is the small penknife that J’onn had given her a couple years ago for her birthday, that she always carries around.

 

“Fine,” Alex mutters, starting to saw away at the thick ropes with it.

 

“It’s no use,” the vigilante says, “You should go, Alex. She’ll be back soon.”

 

“Who’s she?” Alex asks, still stubbornly attacking the ropes.

 

“The operative in charge of Cadmus,” The Mask says. “Surely you didn’t think attacking a few hideouts of her somehow routed her. I suppose she was angry with me, for cutting off her supply to Kryptonite.”

 

“How’d she get you?”

 

Silence meets her question. Alex holds in a grunt of frustration, and keeps working away.

 

“I’m sorry.” The words float quietly into the air, after a few minutes.

 

“Shut up,” Alex repeats, glaring at the ropes.

 

“I am.” Stubbornly, the vigilante continues. “I shouldn’t have left so abruptly. I should have-”

 

“I said _shut up_ . You had every right to leave, alright? I don’t _care_.”

 

A small puff of air is exhaled, as if her words had engendered irritation, but the sound soon turns rueful.

 

“Very well.”

 

“How’d they catch you?” Alex repeats, putting the knife away after she’d sawn through some of the ropes, and setting about untangling the rest with her hands.

 

The Mask sighs again, and looks upward.

 

“Look behind me.”

 

It isn’t until Alex untangles the entire mass of rope, and throws it off the woman, that she sees what she means. There are glowing green rods, three of them, strapped across the length of the back, wedged in place by the ropes and the pillar she’d been tied against.

 

“Kryptonite,” Alex says, in disbelief, as they roll off, and the vigilante makes a sound like a drowning man finally gasping in air. “But that means, you’re... you’re...I was right.”

 

Her brain seems to be stuck, stuttering on a single line over and over again. Kara had been wrong. The Mask is Kryptonian. There’s another Kryptonian alive. Kara would get to meet someone like her again!

 

“So that’s how they subdued you,” Alex says, trying to keep the rest of her questions at bay, although she has a thousand of them.

 

Fuck, how long that the Kryptonite been affecting her? It’s hard for Alex to tell her physical state, before of the full-body uniform, but the laboured breathing is a good clue. It’s a wonder, Alex thinks, that the woman is even alive.

 

“I got too eager,” the vigilante says, sounding wry. “I went into an operation blind, and... well.”

 

She shrugs, as if to say that the rest was obvious.

 

“We need to get you out right now,” Alex says, tapping her comm back to life. “Brainy, I’m getting out. We’ll be at the DEO in fifteen.”

 

They stagger out to the back of the facility, Alex propping the Kryptonian up, heading for the unmarked DEO van hidden between the trees. Once inside, Alex peels out into the dirt road, heading for the highway at top speed, before she turns to the Mask, who’s slumped over in the passenger seat.

 

‘I know someone who’d like to meet you,” she says.

 

“No,” the Kryptonian grunts, her face still deathly white from the little Alex can see of it.

 

A trembling hand reaches up to caress Alex’s face, and the car veers slightly, as she loses her train of thought for a moment.

 

“Trust me,” she says, recentering. “You’re gonna want to meet her. She’s Kryptonian, like you.”

 

“I always trust you, Alex, whether you believe it or not. But, you don’t understand, this time.”

 

“What don’t I understand?” Alex snaps.

 

Why can’t she just go along with this? Kara would finally meet another Kryptonian. And Alex would finally get to introduce to her sister the woman who’s been occupying her thoughts for the last few months. It’s _perfect_.

 

Instead, The Mask is struggling to take the seat belt off, and shaking off Alex’s attempts to stop her.

 

“You shouldn’t be moving,” Alex says, alarmed. “The kryptonite-”

 

“It’s wearing off,” the vigilante says. “I’ve had much worse exposure. I’ve built up a tolerance for it.”

 

Still, her movements are shaky, as she shifts forward.

 

“Don’t,” Alex says, softly. “Please, don’t.”

 

“Then don’t take me to your organization,” the answer comes back, just as soft, with an equal undercurrent of pleading.

 

Alex glares at the road ahead of her as she continues driving, before reaching up to type into the GPS, punching the keys with enough agitation that her hand shakes.

 

“What are you doing?” the Kryptonian asks.

 

“I’m rerouting the coordinates,” Alex says.

 

She turns back to the road when she’s done, and silence reigns for some time, but not before two words are spoken, quiet but full of feeling.

 

“Thank you.”

  
  


\---

 

Alex brings The Mask into her apartment without much resistance. When she pulls out her phone to check in with J’onn, that’s when the first signs of alarm show.

 

“What are you doing?” the Kryptonian asks, an undercurrent of tension showing in her usually calm voice.

 

“I’m texting the DEO,” Alex says, distractedly, punching in the numbers.

 

“Oh,” is the cold reply.

 

Alex looks up, wondering at the sudden anger, and then realizes it’s just badly-masked hurt.

 

“I’m not reporting you,” she says, as the reason for the hurt suddenly becomes clear. “I’m just checking myself in... you know what, nevermind, fuck it, J’onn can wait.”

 

She tosses the phone away, and walks over to sit by the injured woman, picking up the towel soaking in the warm water.

 

“Here, this’ll help with the cuts,” she says, frowning at the still-gaping open wounds on the parts of the body that she can see.

 

Kara heals a lot faster than that. So does Clark, from what Alex remembers of him.

 

The Kryptonian does as directed with her face, before turning to face her again.

 

“Why am I here, Alex?” she asks.

 

“I just, I thought-” Alex begins.

 

She had meant to say something about Kara, but the words die on the tongue as soon she thinks them up. Because, that isn’t really true, it’s not just about Kara. Alex is here because she wants to know this woman, has wanted to know more about her since their first meeting. Has practically been obsessing over her, she realizes, to the point of ignoring the risks that came with their acquaintance.

 

“Maybe you should go,” she admits. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the danger I’d be putting you in.”

 

She feels like she’s being surveyed, in the silence that follows. Then, the other woman wets the warm towel again, and brings it towards Alex’s face, gently brushing in circles.

 

“I’m not-” Alex begins.

 

But the ministrations don’t stop. First, the dirt on her face is scrubbed off, then her neck and arms, and finally careful brushes given to her DEO uniform, until Alex feels like she couldn’t be cleaner unless she took an hour-long full body bath. She just sits there, numb, aware of her face burning, knowing she should call the DEO but not wanting to at all.

 

When the other woman finally sets the towel aside, they just stare at each other. Alex traces the mask, then runs wondering fingers over what little she can see of her face, feeling wistful in a way she can never remember feeling before.

 

“Alex.” The voice is just as wistful, rather than the rebuking tone she’d been expecting.

 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to reveal yourself,” Alex says, and it’s a lie, it’s not fine, she wants to _know_ so badly.

 

“You won’t like me revealing myself.”

 

_Impossible._

 

“You know that makes me more curious.”

 

“I also know what you humans say about curiosity.”

 

“Bet you don’t know the whole saying,” Alex says. “Fine, don’t take it off.”

 

Her hands are itching to just pull it off, though. She’s right there, this infuriating target whom Alex has been chasing after all this time, this brilliant woman who had almost outmaneuvered her, and then sounded delighted when Alex had come out on top after all, and if Alex is being honest, she’s been a little taken with her since Day One.

 

“Mask on is fine by me,” she murmurs, and kisses her.

 

She pulls back almost immediately, but not before she feels a slight softening of lips against her, as if the other woman had wanted to kiss back before reconsidering.

 

“It’s honestly fine,” Alex murmurs, drawing her in again, emboldened by that. “It makes you feel safer, I know.”

 

She cradles her face, feels a strong pulse beating against her thumbs. There’s soft noise of want from the mouth she’s caressing, and then Alex is kissing her again, feverish and deep _._

 

Only to have the other woman pulling back again.

 

“No.” she’s gasping out.

 

“Oh,” Alex says, moving backwards and feeling small, humiliated, _furious_ with herself for hoping. “You, um, I guess I-”

 

“Agent Danvers... Alex, no.” The vigilante sighs and looks away. “Do you know how Cadmus caught me?”

 

“You said you went in blind,” Alex says, caught off guard. “What does that have to do with-”

 

Before she has even finished speaking, the other woman is stretching out her hand, and pressing down on something beneath the uniform, which causes a holographic video to play in mid air. On the screen is a familiar figure in blue and red, tied up with glowing green ropes. The golden S on her chest is clearly visible on the screen, as she struggles against her bindings.

 

“Supergirl!” Alex says, jumping to her feet. “I’ve got to-”

 

“It’s not real,” the vigilante says, raising a hand to stall her. “I was sent it anonymously, and when I saw it... well, all reason fled. I charged in thoughtlessly, and got caught up in the trap that Cadmus had so cleverly set for me.”

 

“Why?” Alex asks, looking from the video to her, feeling like her brain is stuttering on a senseless loop. “Supergirl being captured... why would she think that meant anything to you?”

 

Instead of answering, the vigilante touches the sides of her own face. There’s a click, before the mask screens away into nonexistence. Familiar green eyes, clear in a way they’ve never been before, look out at Alex, and she feels like she’s been punched in the gut.

 

\---


	4. Chapter 4

A dead woman looks up at her, and Alex feels fear and grief and defensiveness claw up to the surface all at once.

She stumbles back instinctively, before her training reasserts itself. Her body curls into a defensive pose, while her hand goes for the weapon at her hip.

Astra merely tilts her head and surveys her. There’s a slight smile on her face, as if this is exactly what she expected, but there’s bitterness there, too.

Alex hesitates. Astra had saved her, has been working with her for months now. This can’t be an ambush, not when she’s had so many other - and better - chances to kill her.

Which means-

And then the grief and defensiveness is piling up again, because Astra is here, helping people, saving her, and Alex had driven the memory of killing her so deep down into herself, had told herself again and again that she had no choice, had refused to feel guilty about it because there’d been no other way-

The other way is staring right at her, now, without accusation in her eyes.

“I haven’t made it easy for you, have I?” Astra asks.

She shakes her cowl off, so that her hair tumbles over her shoulders, familiar brown waves mixing with those silver flyaway strands that Alex had been so taken with.

“Astra.” Alex only whispers the name, as if saying it out loud might break this illusion.

And that’s when the door breaks in.

\---

Kara speeds into the room so fast that the door snaps back on its hinges, skidding to a stop at the sight of Alex and Astra confronting each other. 

“Kara!” Alex turns to her, apprehensive of how her sister is going to handle this, seeing her dead aunt alive after two years.

But Kara is rushing over to Astra and hugging her without a trace of shock on her face.

“Are you ok?” she asking, worriedly. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m alright, Little One,” Astra says, and Alex sees her eyes droop, as if she finally feels safe enough to show her weariness.

Kara steps back to survey her obviously battered aunt, and then turns to Alex, uncertainty and apprehension in her eyes.

“Kara,” Alex mumbles, stung and hurt. “I didn’t hurt her. I’d never have-”

“Alex is the reason I’m alive,” Astra cuts in, tiredly. “She saved my life, and brought me here, at great risk to her own life.”

That’s definitely an exaggeration, but Alex is not contesting it, because Kara’s look of uncertainty is immediately replaced by a teary, beaming smile. She gathers both of them into her arms, crushing the two of them in a hug that makes even Astra grunt. 

“I knew you two would get along!” she says. “I knew it!”

“Hold on,” Alex says, drawing back. “What do you mean, you knew?”

She stares at the other two, at the resigned look on Astra’s face, and the slowly dawning panic on Kara’s.

“You knew?” Alex asks her sister, numbly. “All this time, you knew?”

Kara looks even more panicked, and sheepish at the same time. It’s Astra who intervenes between the staredown of the two sisters.

“I found her a little more than two year sago, when my pod finally crashed back to Earth,” she says. “I was half-healed, and she was the only one I could expect any help from. You cannot have expected me to have stayed away from my niece, Alex.”

Alex does some rapid math in her head. A little more than two years ago. That means...

“That would have been just after Mon-El left,” she says, remembering how she had expected rage and desolation from Kara after his departure, and instead her sister had suddenly seemed to bloom into a fresh happiness.

“She wasn’t trying to hurt me, Alex.” Kara says. “She just wanted to get to know me.”

Alex stares between them, at Kara’s beaming smile, and Astra’s tired but wary face.

“I didn’t know,” she says, her voice small.

They stare at her with faces of such identical apprehension that she wants to laugh, despite her shock and uncertainty. She steps forward, grasps one in each hand, brings them close-

-and then smacks their heads together.

“That’s for not telling me sooner.” 

“Ow!” Kara says, and there’s a matching grunt of pain from Astra.

Alex smacks them together again.

“And that’s to remind you never to do something like that again.”

“Ow,” Kara grumbles again, pulling away. “I get the point, jeez.”

“What happened to letting me rest?” Astra asks, looking equally disgruntled as her hand goes up to massage her temples, making Alex feel temporarily guilty, until she remembers just how much grief this woman has caused her over the past year.

“I think J’onn knows,” she says, suddenly.

“What?” Kara looks panicked again. “No, he doesn’t. You can’t tell him. The DEO can’t know.”

“I won’t,” Alex says. “It’s just, every time I was looking into tracking her at the DEO, he tried to discourage me. He kept brushing the matter off, even though part of the DEO’s mandate is to keep track of extraterrestrial vigilantes. You know he’d never drop the ball like that, unless it was intentional.”

She’s speaking to Kara, but her eyes keep straying to Astra, as if the woman might disappear if she doesn’t keep an eye on her. Astra simply looks back at her, looking exhausted but unworried.

“I was wondering why there wasn’t any concerted effort to arrest me, aside from you.” she says. 

“I didn’t want to arrest you,” Alex protests, feeling oddly self-conscious, with Kara watching them. “I just wanted to-”

She’s cut off by the insistent pinging of Kara’s cell phone.

“Oh,” Kara says, scanning over the consecutive texts. “It’s Nia. She needs my input on an article before it goes to print.”

She stares between the two of them, as if unsure of how to proceed.

“Will you two-”

“Go,” Astra advises her. “We’ll manage to not kill each other until you return.”

“That’s not funny,” Kara says, before another text comes in, making her jump. “Oh Rao, that’s Cat, now I really have to go.”

She disappears as abruptly as she had entered the room, leaving Alex and Astra staring at each other, both unsure of how to proceed.

\---

Alex is the one to break the impasse, crossing the room to sit by Astra on the bed, aware of green eyes tracking her movements intently. She studies the Kryptonian in turn, encroaching closer to do so. Astra draws back, so minutely that Alex would have missed it if she weren’t trained to spot such things. She leans forward, equalizing the distance again.

“Did you mean what you said, to Kara?” she asks, abruptly. “Do you really think I’d kill you, again?”

Astra shakes her head, lips twitching.

“Perhaps my sense of humour isn’t where it used to be.”

Alex lets out a breathy laugh, which sounds hoarse to her ears.

“About earlier...” she begins, before her throat closes up.

“What is it?” Astra asks.

Alex tries to speak, and then shakes her head silently. Soft fingers caress her cheek again, and her eyes flutter closed momentarily, before she remembers the situation and draws back.

“Does it scare you?” Astra asks.

Behind the many layers of undercurrents - hope, disappointment, resignation - Alex hears the true question.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she says.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Alex says quickly. 

She brings Astra’s hand up to where it had been before, curled around her jaw as if it was made to fit there.

“No.” she repeats, and feels Astra’s fingers shift slightly against her skin. “Just stay there, please.”

Astra seems to understand the context of her request, and her other hand comes up too, cradling the other side of Alex’s face. Alex exhales, closing her eyes, so that the only thing that exists is the softness of that touch.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?” she murmurs, feeling Astra’s thumb twitch against her cheek as she speaks. “Why didn’t you tell me you were alive?”

“I was afraid of your reaction,” Astra replies, voice equally low. “I should have let Kara tell you earlier.”

“Or I shouldn’t have killed you in the first place,” Alex says, voicing something she had buried so deep inside herself, that she’d never vocalized it even to Kara.

“Or I should never have driven you to it,” Astra corrects her, hands moving up to tuck some flyaway hair behind Alex’s ears, so gently that Alex feels like tearing up all of a sudden. “I was... so lost, Alex. In anger, and hate, and-”

“And grief,” Alex supplies, knowing that part intimately now, after her father, after Cadmus, and every other loss she’s had to deal with in the past two years.

“Death was the best thing that could have happened to me,” Astra tells her, seriously.

“What?” Alex scoffs, torn between horror and skepticism. “Astra, no!”

“It did,” Astra insists. “It gave me a way out of... everything. It set me free. It tore apart my expectations, and the false beliefs I’d held on to for so long, when I had nothing else. I never expected to come back, but to find Kara again, to wake up in her arms and know that I was allowed to start over... it was more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“And you’re here,” Alex says, looking down for a moment, before her eyes are drawn right back to Astra’s gaze.

She still feels like it’s a dream, this unexpected second chance. Like Astra will disappear, if she looks away too long. 

“You came back.”

Astra’s lips twist, as if something amuses her.

“I suppose I did,” she says.

“Could’ve done without the vigilante hijinks,” Alex grumbles. “Do you know how many hours of sleep you cost me?”

“I didn’t ask you to chase me,” comes the arch reply. “Although, I’ll admit you have made my life more interesting, the past few months.”

There’s that delighted smile again, the same one she’d worn when Alex had first trapped her, except that now Alex gets to see the whole of it, in its brilliance. It sobers her right up.

“Why do you do it?” she asks. “You could have just hidden away. Instead, you’ve put yourself right in the crosshairs of the DEO and every other law enforcement agency.”

“Do you think you’d do that, if you were in my position?” Astra asks. “I may not be a hero, but I can still serve, in my own way.”

Alex studies the serious set of her face, and despite the comically pompous words, she has no doubt Astra means it. That’s what had always struck her about Astra, she realizes, and made her feel confident in extending an olive branch in the first place, so many years ago. Even then, Astra had believed in things. For good or for bad, her devotion could be relied on, whether it was to her ideology, or to her family. 

“I just realized,” she says. “The kryptonite that you took from Lord Technologies... you didn’t take it to protect the supers. You took it to protect Kara, from General Lane.”

Astra’s eyes soften.

“They supers, and Kara.” she says. “Aren’t they one and the same?”

“I don’t think so,” Alex says, and feels soft thumbs stroke over her cheeks again. “Not to you.”

“You keep understanding more about me than I want you to,” Astra says, not sounding as put out about it as the words would indicate.

“Tough luck,” Alex murmurs. “You threw down the gauntlet first, remember? You kept challenging me to one-up you. You’re stuck with this.”

“You brought me here,” Astra reminds her.

“Yeah,” Alex says, and sighs. “Astra, about before...”

“Yes?”

“Did you?” Alex flounders. “I mean, was it-”

She stops, trying to figure out how to even voice her question. It had been easier before, with someone to preempt her, and understand her feelings before Alex herself understood them.

Astra just stays silent, like a statue.

“What do you want?” Alex asks, wanting to ensure one final time that she hasn’t misunderstood this.

It’s not a smug smirk that answers her. Rather, a pensive look overtakes Astra’s face, as if she’s really thinking the question over.

“Safe,” she says, hands drifting down to rest on Alex’s shoulders. “I want you to feel safe with me.”

“Oh,” Alex says, having expected something along decidedly more lurid, or at least romantic, lines.

She’s horribly embarrassed at first, with herself for making that assumption, and then furious with Astra for acting in a way that had prompted it. Both emotions soon give way to cooler thinking, though. Of course her expectations had been mismatched, Alex realizes. If they really had been strangers to each other, it would be one thing, but this is Kara’s aunt. Astra isn’t going to pull something like a hookup with her, of all people.

“Would that be possible?” Astra asks, watching her closely.

Alex blushes, briefly wondering if the woman had read her thoughts, before realizing that Astra is referring to her own earlier words.

“Yeah,” she says, biting her lips, as her hand comes reaches up to lightly rest on Astra’s. “This is a good start.”

She looks over Astra again, and frowns, her training nagging at her. There are no rents in Astra’s uniform, and she should still have her Kryptonian strength, but there’s something in the way she’s holding herself that bothers Alex.

“You’re hurt,” she says.

“I’m fine.”

Disbelieving, Alex pokes at the suit, frustrated when she can’t find a zipper, or any kind of opening.

“It’s like the mask,” Astra explains, looking reluctant. 

She presses something around the neck of the uniform, and the area where Alex had touched parts, to reveal bare skin, before closing back in around when Alex takes her hand away.

“Nanobots.” Alex murmurs in awe, moving her hand in a wide swatch over the torso out of curiosity, which leaves behind an expanse of skin that’s a lot to take in at once, frankly.

“I’m fine,” Astra repeats.

Alex studies the exposed skin, which is discoloured with previously healed scars. She knows, from examining Kara, that her bruises tend to heal over quickly, leaving no traces behind on her body. Astra’s body, on the other hand, looks closer to Alex’s experience. She briefly wonders if they’re remnant scars from before Astra had ever set foot on Earth, but the newest ones are too clear for that to be the case.

“These are new,” Alex says.

Like an automaton, she reaches out and digs into the skin a little, experimentally. Astra’s mouth opens, her jaw working.

“I’m hurting you,” Alex says, recoiling.

“No, that’s not what you’re doing.” Astra exhales the words out in a breathy rush, and Alex bites her lips.

“But you are hurt,” she points out.

“Kara and Clark couldn’t find a way to get all the kryptonite shards out of my system,” Astra finally says, looking extremely reluctant to divulge this. “It keeps my body from absorbing the full powers of the sun, the way Kryptonian bodies usually do.”

Alex stares at her, torn between guilt and anger, until Astra presses the button, and the uniform locks up around her again.

“It’ll heal over soon enough,” she says, and when Alex opens her mouth to protest, “Kryptonian bodies were engineered to mend fast, even without the protection of your sun. Someone as reckless as you shouldn’t be worried about my wounds.”

“Hey,” Alex protests.

Oddly, the return of that insufferably superior tone sets her heart at ease, somehow. 

“It really is you,” she murmurs.

“Who else?” Astra asks, mouth quirking up again, in a slightly amused smirk.

Alex’s ready retort dies, as the quietness is pierced by the droning vibration of her phone.

“That must be J’onn. I really need to go check in.”

She gets up, as Astra silently watches her. Alex can’t tell if she’s disappointed or not, can barely figure out what she herself feels, considering the number of curveballs thrown at her that day.

“You can say here, if you want,” she offers. The words are oddly hard to get out, even though it’s not like she’s propositioning anything, she’s just giving Astra a chance to rest until her injuries heal. “I’ll tell Kara to fly by, after she’s done at Catco.”

“I’ll need to leave soon as well,” Astra says, getting up to face her. “Kara knows where to find me, when she needs to.”

“Right,” Alex says, something heavy settling in her stomach.

Except, Astra cups her jaw again.

“I need to leave soon,” she repeats, “Because I have some friends, whom I need to check in with, before they get worried.”

“Friends?” Alex asks. “The same ‘friends’ that helped you break into Lord Technologies?”

Astra seems to hesitate, before answering.

“Not everyone in Fort Rozz was in there for heinous crimes,” she says. “And, though I was blind to it, not everyone wanted to follow me on my crusade to install Myriad around the world. When I offered them another way, they accepted.”

“To help us,” Alex says, filling in the unsaid blanks. “From the shadows.”

A wry upward twist of Astra’s lips confirms her guess.

“I want to meet them,” Alex says, because she’s a DEO agent after all, and she’s not trusting something she can’t evaluate for herself.

“If they agree, I’ll ask them to meet with you.”

There’s an emphasis on the ‘if’ that makes Alex’s heart sit lighter, and she accepts the condition with a nod.

“I can return, after I meet with them,” Astra offers. There’s a tenseness in her voice, that makes Alex wonder if she’s nervous too.

She’s just staring at her, on the verge of shifting around, when Astra moves forward. Alex tenses by reflex, but Astra just... hugs her. Really tight, burrowing against Alex’s neck, arms wrapping around her back until they’re crushed together. Alex can feel the slower Kryptonian heartbeat pulsing against her own, until she’s breathing in time to it, as if they’re one body.

“Be safe, Alex.”

Alex wets her lip, feeling heat travel through her again, at those words whispered into her skin. Astra is here, the phantom she’s been chasing around and obsessing over for the better part of a year is here, and she’s in Alex’s arms.

“J’onn can wait,” Alex says, for the second time that night, as she steps back, without completely letting go of Astra.

“You don’t have to do this,” Astra says, her words entirely at odds with her ravenous gaze. “Alex, I-”

“Don’t,” Alex interrupts. “Don’t say one thing to me, and then look at me the opposite way. It doesn’t work like that, ok? Make up your mind.”

Astra takes her time doing so, drawing her in and smoothing tentative hands across the planes of her collarbone, then down her waist, before her arms move to encircle Alex’s waist.

“Come on...” Alex murmurs.

Astra kisses her, in a stumbling and wanton way, like there’s more feelings inside her than her lips can possibly express against Alex’s mouth. It imperfectly perfect, overwhelming because of how long Alex has had to wait for this, with no hope that it could actually come to pass. When the kiss ends, neither separates, unwilling to let go of each other.

“I’ve been so blind,” Alex says, against Astra’s mouth.

Astra’s hands curl around her back, drawing her in impossibly closer, until Alex feels nothing but the two of them, wrapped around each other like a cocoon. “Never as much as me. Or for as long.”

“Astra?”

“Yes?”

“I feel safe,” Alex whispers, kissing her again and again, until Astra is moaning against her mouth. “God, Astra.”

Astra’s reply is more formless words moaned against her mouth, but Alex picks out her own name somewhere in between, and that just makes her kiss back harder. Astra’s lips are on hers, and her hands are around Alex’s waist, turning her to liquid with every soft touch, and it’s better than Alex could have imagined, if she would’ve ever thought to imagine this possibility.

Which means, of course, that the window shatters in just then, interrupting them for the second time that day.

\---

Shards of glass fly back on impact, and Alex vaguely registers Astra shielding her from them, before the cluster of DEO agents rappelling in through her window occupy her attention, with J’onn in Martian regalia at the helm.

“Alex!” the Martian Manhunter roars, as soon as he enters. “We tracked your phone to a Cadmus hideout, are you-”

He stops, stares at the two of them, and turns around immediately, followed by the other agents, including Vasquez who mutters a “just text a fucking check-in next time, Danvers.” Lucy turns away slowest, sizing up Astra and waggling impressed eyebrows at Alex before doing so.

“Um, hi,” Alex says breathlessly, some moments later, after a mad scramble to fix her clothes and disentangle herself from Astra, because that’s the thing to say when half her colleagues burst into her apartment and catch her in the middle of making out with Supergirl’s formerly criminal and presumably dead aunt. “Uh, surprise?”

\---

Alex ends up having to file about a hundred forms with Pam from HR before the day is done, and sit through a mutually embarrassing talk with J’onn, in which both of them try really hard to avoid meeting each other’s eyes. When she staggers home at the end of the day, though, there’s a deliriously happy sister greeting her at the door, and Astra is arguing into the phone about some takeout menu or other, and Alex feels so happy that she thinks she must be dreaming.

But she isn’t, and when she plants a soft kiss against Astra’s cheek while Kara is turned away, Alex realizes that this new reality is worth a few hundred forms.

\---


End file.
